


Never Have I Ever

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Consensual Underage Sex, Crude Language associated with underage sexuality, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, No closure, Under Sex, crude language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: Contrary to popular opinion, Dinesh has been in love before. It just didn't end very well.(If you've been hungering for an angsty meditation about Dinesh having a tragic romantic backstory and coping with his internalized homophobia, that's what this is.)





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story contains frank and crude language in relation to a teenage sexual experience Dinesh has. (very, very specifically - the word 'cum' appears.) I was warned this could be upsetting to people. 
> 
> As for the story - honestly, this wasn't what I was expecting. I thought it would be this big, involved story about global homophobia, but I guess the fic knew when it was done? I got this far and sat on this for two months before sending it to a friend of mine to look over and I got the go ahead.
> 
> Additonally, I want to think mintywrites for looking this over and giving me helpful suggestions!

“ _ Never have I ever been in love.” _

Dinesh is twenty-one the first time he plays Never Have I Ever. He quickly discovers that it’s a game he’s not very good at it, given a mixture of too many life experiences and not enough at the same time. 

When Tina smirks and says her ‘Never have I ever’ he shakily takes his drink, and everyone around him ‘ooh’s and ‘aahs’ wanting to know the details. He doesn’t have anything to say about it as his heart thunders and a sick twist hits his gut. 

When he’s 35 and sitting inside the office of Pied Piper, long after the work day’s over and they’ve broken out the celebratory booze, he doesn’t know what to say either. Jared takes two  drinks of his non-alcoholic seltzer while Dinesh has his beer poised halfway to his lips. Erlich takes several drinks. Gilfoyle doesn’t take any.  

Dinesh finally lifts his beer. He doesn’t do it because he’s interested in letting the revelation float out in the open, but he does find that he really needs the drink, and his half-lift already drew a curious glance from Gilfoyle. 

When he looks up, he’s got everyone’s attention, and he frowns. 

“What?” Dinesh asks. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” Richard shrugs. “I sort of meant, like, you know...romantically? In a relationship type thing? Not a crush.”

“Yeah, and?” Dinesh asks, fear flickering under his offense. “You don’t know my life.” He snaps. 

“Clearly.” Gilfoyle says, watching him. 

Dinesh glares, deciding he’s not in a partying mood anymore. He’s always hated this game anyway. 

“I don’t think anyone meant any offense.” Jared says. 

Dinesh stands from his chair and waves it off. “Whatever.” He says, taking his beer to the kitchen to dump it and leaving the others in the room. He watches his drink swirl down the sink as he feels a black cloud of a mood hang over him. 

For a brief second, he’s back in a tiny room of a 12th floor apartment. The stifling heat of a summer in Hyderabad permeates the atmosphere, even with the air con running, and in front of him he sees beautiful brown eyes 

Dinesh fiddles with a spot on his chest, absentmindedly feeling the skin through the fabric. 

“You good, dude?” Gilfoyle asks, making Dinesh jump. 

Dinesh’s hand falls from his chest and he rinses his beer bottle quickly. “Yeah, fine.” He says, turning the faucet off. “Just gonna…” He gestures out back and wiggles the empty container. 

He’s about to take it out to the glass recycling when Gilfoyle’s hand wraps around his wrist, bringing him to an abrupt stop. 

“You wanna play video games?” Gilfoyle asks. 

Dinesh feels some of his tension ease and nods. “Yeah man. I’ll meet you in there.”  

Gaming with Gilfoyle’s as good a distraction as any, and he’s had enough experience burying this shit that by the end of the night, he’s managed to successfully forget about it. Gilfoyle doesn’t act any different, and Dinesh realizes that simply admitting he’s been in love isn’t close to enough to clue them all in on the details (which they fortunately don’t ask for) so he goes to his room in better spirits. 

It doesn’t stop him from scrolling through Wajeed’s facebook photos until he gets to one dated five years prior. He stares into beautiful brown eyes, a pain going through his heart. His fingers lift, idly fiddling with a spot on his chest. 

The people in the wedding photo smile happily and Dinesh feels his mood sink deeper the longer he stares at it. 

He forces himself to close the laptop and go to bed. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ May, 1996 _

_ It all starts with soccer. It’s sweltering in May, around 100 degrees. Dinesh is 15 and sitting on the sidelines with his textbook while his cousins and their friends play.  _

_ Farooq’s best friend, Zihad, is about a year older than Dinesh. Dinesh has met him a few times, but he doesn’t talk to him a lot. Zihad’s one of those problem guys - the kind that smokes and just narrowly avoids getting into trouble. His dad’s a lawyer and Dinesh has no idea how he gets away with that sort of crap, but Dinesh isn’t about to compromise his straight A status and cool image to hang out with losers like Zihad.  _

_ Zihad likes to talk to him though, especially lately, so Dinesh finds himself sitting next to the guy after Zihad’s broken away from the soccer players.  _

_ “Farooq wasn’t lying.” Zihad says, nodding at the book Dinesh has. “You’re really buckling down.” _

_ Dinesh flushes a little and nods his head, staring at the history text that swims in his vision. Zihad tsks and takes the book from him, inspiring a shout of protest. Zihad flips the pages and crows with delight.  _

_ “Or maybe not.” He says, smirking at the comic book he’s unearthed.  _

_ Dinesh glared at Zihad. The guy’s brown eyes sparkle with amusement and Dinesh feels an uncomfortable flip in his abdomen. He looks away, where his cousins and their friends are starting up another game.  _

_ “Why don’t you play?” Zihad asks, tucking the comic back in Dinesh’s book and closing it inside.  _

_ Dinesh glares down at the grass below, kicking it with his foot. “Football’s a waste of time.” _

_ “Unlike comics.” Zihad teases.  _

_ Dinesh glances at him. His face is bright, brown skin shimmering with sweat and pink lips pulled into a teasing smile. Dinesh feels a weird flex in his heart, and suddenly it’s like the side closest to Zihad is burning a bit. Dinesh looks away quickly, biting his lip and trying to think of a suitable reply.  _

_ “I like comic books.” He says quietly. His low tone brings Zihad in closer and he stares resolutely at the ground, kicking the dirt.  _

_ “You don’t like football?” Zihad asks.  _

_ “I’m not good at it.” Dinesh admits. Sports have never been his strong suit, and his cousins always get frustrated enough that they kick him out of the game pretty quickly.  _

_ “I can teach you.” Zihad offers, watching Dinesh with his unnerving gaze. Zihad’s always made him feel a bit weird. He’s always looked at him strangely, something imperceptible about his attention that makes Dinesh feel thrown.  _

_ “Why would I want you to do that?” Dinesh asks.  _

_ Zihad shrugs. “Because then you wouldn’t be on your own reading comic books.” _

_ “I like being on my own reading comic books.” Dinesh grumbles, reaching for his tome. Zihad holds it back and Dinesh freezes, hand caught in the air as he stares into Zihad’s face. A shock goes through him and his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.  _

_ He’s never really looked Zihad fully in the face before, and now it’s all he can see, with Zihad a few inches from him and filling his vision. They’re not so close as to be inappropriate, but it’s closer than Dinesh has been to anyone but family and intimate friends, and he feels like things have tilted suddenly.  _

_ Zihad has a bit of scruff starting to grow in, looking almost more like a man than a 16 year old boy. Of course, being 15, Dinesh doesn’t have much room to gauge it, but Zihad seems awfully  manly to him. It makes him feel...strange.  _

_ Zihad looks a bit startled too and suddenly Dinesh feels the book being pushed into his hand.  _

_ “Uh, here.” Zihad murmurs.  _

_ Dinesh takes it, hugging it to his chest and flinching back, looking away as his heart thunders and his stomach does nervous flips. He tells himself it’s a reaction born out of fear, a sign that he should continue avoiding Zihad the way he’s always done.  _

_ Dinesh stands up quickly, leaving Zihad behind as he flees the soccer field, neck prickling all the while.  _

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

Dinesh sits in the passenger seat of Jared’s Chevy Volt, tiredly watching the streetlights pass outside as light jazz plays from the radio. It’s been a day of misadventures and he’s pretty exhausted, so it takes him a second to process the casual statement Jared makes. 

“You know, my first love was a stewardess.” 

Dinesh blinks and furrows his brows, looking over at Jared in confusion. “Okay?” He says. He glances back at Gilfoyle, who’s seated in the middle behind them. Gilfoyle shrugs and Dinesh looks over at Jared, who’s watching the road thoughtfully. 

“I met her on my way to the ozarks to find my father. Her name was Roxanne. She had the most beautiful dimples.” He says fondly. 

“That’s great, Jared.” Dinesh says, trying to figure out what kind of game Jared has that he could form a meaningful relationship with a stewardess. 

“We dated for four months, until she moved to Nigeria to be with a prince she met online. I never saw or heard from her again.” Jared says. 

Dinesh doesn’t have anything to say about that. “Why are you telling me this?” He asks. 

“Well, I...I just felt like sharing it with you, I suppose.” Jared says. 

“Oh.” Dinesh says, looking out his window again. “Great.”

He hears Jared sigh beside him, then Gilfoyle snorts. 

“He’s trying to get you to talk about your love life.” Gilfoyle says. 

Dinesh whips his head around, frowning as he looks from Gilfoyle to Jared. “What?” He asks. 

“Well, after our Never Have I Ever game, I suppose I’ve been curious.” Jared confesses. 

Dinesh feels an uncomfortable dip in his stomach. He fiddles with the area over his chest, thinking that at this rate he’s going to get a bruise there. “There’s nothing to know.” He says, glaring out the window. 

“Now I’m curious.” Gilfoyle says, leaning forward. “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding shit. It’s just none of your business.” Dinesh snaps, grumpy that they’re prying. It’s not like anyone bugged Jared or Erlich about it. 

“What was wrong with her?” Gilfoyle asks. 

“What?” Dinesh asks, looking from him to Jared. 

“If she dated you, there must have been something wrong with her.” Gilfoyle states. “Was she real?” 

Dinesh rolls his eyes and resumes looking out the window. He probably should have expected this. Gilfoyle found a potential weakness and he’s about to exploit the shit out of it. 

When they get back to the house, Dinesh storms off to his room, shutting himself inside and irritably scrolling through gaming forums and tech news before going to bed. He resolutely doesn’t go to Wajeed’s facebook, though warm brown eyes hover in his mind the whole time. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ May 1996 _

_ It’s a few days before Dinesh sees Zihad again. It’s a week before they talk. Dinesh shows up at the soccer games, but he always leaves early, only this time Zihad corners him as he’s fleeing. They’re tucked behind the wall, invisible to the others, and Dinesh hugs his book to his chest, face burning hot as he looks up at Zihad with wide eyes.  _

_ Zihad’s got his bag with him and he digs into it, pulling a plastic sheath out.  _

_ “I, uh, didn’t know if you’d like it. But it seemed cool.” Zihad says, shoving the comic book over to him.  _

_ Dinesh grabs it uncertainly, catching a whiff of cigarettes and cologne as he does. He looks down at the cover of a classic Spiderman and can’t help smiling.  _

_ “Man, where did you find this?” He asks, dropping his defensive posture as he turns the book over, staring at the description and beaming.  _

_ “Some old comic book store.” Zihad shrugs, watching him curiously. “Do you like it?”  _

_ “It’s awesome.” Dinesh beams. He meets Zihad’s gaze and feels his smile start to fall as his heart skips.  _

_ “I like your smile.” Zihad says quietly. He lifts his hand, and it presses quickly, but delicately to Dinesh’s face. Then Zihad retreats, racing back to the soccer field and leaving Dinesh stunned and uncertain behind him.  _

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

It catches on. Little side comments from Gilfoyle become teasing remarks from everyone and it’s suddenly like the fucking Gold Chain incident, only this time there isn’t a clear way to make it go away. And this time it’s worse, because the more it bugs him, the more they tease, and he suddenly feels like he’s being bullied in his own home. 

He doesn’t need that. 

Mostly, it’s teasing about what could have possibly been wrong with her, and Dinesh doesn’t see how it would be funny even if it wasn’t such a sensitive topic. 

He tries to keep it in - mostly rolling his eyes and sighing and trying to pretend it doesn’t bug him. He avoids Gilfoyle outside of work and basically keeps his comments short and clipped, not really talking to anyone as he feels increasingly isolated. 

It lasts a week before they seem to catch on that this time, it’s more serious than light ribbing about his chain. It happens without him making a scene or doing anything more than picking his laptop up and leaving to his own room if it gets too much, and the comments die down, but he still doesn’t talk to them. 

If Gilfoyle greets him, he shrugs it off. If Jared says ‘good morning’ he just puts his headphones in and ignores the guy. He doesn’t talk to Richard or Erlich either, and he should probably feel bad about it, but it’s kind of nice not having to deal with any of them now. It’s not like he was that keen on them in the first place, and they’re all kind of assholes, so whatever. 

And if he does start kind of missing the camaraderie, it’s quickly soured by the reminder that they’ve treated him like shit twice now and he’s not stupid enough to go in for a third round of ‘Let’s see what else we can give Dinesh crap about.’

It goes pretty okay until Jared and Richard call him in for an HR meeting. 

“We’ve, um, noticed some morale issues around the office lately.” Jared says. 

“Uh huh.” Dinesh murmurs, arms crossed as he stares at Jared. 

“Well, it…” Jared shares a glance with Richard. “It’s just, you seem-”

“We gave you shit and now you won’t talk to anyone.” Richard says, eyes wide and fingers fidgeting with a salt shaker he’s grabbed off the table. 

“Yeah.” Dinesh says. 

“That’s it?” Richard asks. 

“Dinesh, we’d like to find a way to improve the situation.” Jared tells him. 

“Okay, well, if you find one let me know.” Dinesh says, moving to stand up. 

“Dinesh, please sit.” Jared asks him. 

Dinesh huffs and settles down again, scratching idly at his chest as he does so. 

The door opens and Gilfoyle strolls in, ignoring the ‘do not disturb’ sign as he goes for another cup of coffee. 

“Gilfoyle, we’re in the middle of an HR meeting.” Jared says. 

“About Dinesh pouting because we teased him about his girlfriend?” Gilfoyle intones. 

Dinesh bristles, not sure why Gilfoyle’s been so focused on this. “Yeah, I’m done.” He says, standing up. 

“Done?” Richard asks. 

“Yeah, man. I’m fucking done. I’m not gonna sit here and get bullied in my own fucking home. This isn’t high school.” He snaps. 

“Bullied?” Gilfoyle asks quietly and when Dinesh looks around, they’re all frozen and wide-eyed. 

“Dinesh, did you feel like we were bullying you?” Jared asks. 

Dinesh huffs irritably. “Don’t fucking pull that ‘did you feel’ bullshit on me like this was all in my fucking head.” He says, glaring at Jared. “I didn’t fucking imagine this.”

“Dinesh, we didn’t mean to-” Jared starts, but Dinesh interrupts. 

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit.” He snaps, before turning and stomping out of the kitchen. “I quit!” He snaps as he scoops up his house keys. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ June 1996 _

_ Since homosexuality is illegal and socially taboo, Dinesh understands what it is only to the extent that he knows it’s Bad. It’s not discussed, and while the law is rarely enforced, it’s not unheard of for people to go to prison. More often than not, people are socially ostracized, bullied, beaten, or just generally regarded as shameful.  _

_ Being gay is Not Good.  _

_ And Zihad’s father is a lawyer, so Zihad should especially understand this.  _

_ And yet, on one June day when they meet behind the wall again (the secret spot they always meet, where Zihad brings him comics or sometimes fun treats he’s found) Zihad kisses him.  _

_ It’s the sort of kiss Dinesh has only heard about. It’s the kind of thing he shouldn’t feel when kissing a boy, like his body’s lit up like a firework, like the world’s faded out into the background as he’s taken over by something rosy and wonderful. A storm rages in his chest as his hand lifts, pressing to Zihad’s jaw, feeling that growth of stubble on the skin.  _

_ Zihad pulls back, his burnished eyes searching Dinesh’s gaze.  _

_ “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” Zihad reveals.  _

_ Dinesh’s stomach flips, a mixture of panic and something like delight. “Years?” He whispers.  _

_ “Your thirteenth birthday.” Zihad tells him. “Farooq brought me. We talked a bit out in the yard, and then you ran away before I got a chance to do anything.” _

_ Dinesh frowns. He barely remembers that, but he can’t believe how brazen Zihad is.  _

_ “We’re not supposed to do this.” He points out.  _

_ “Why?” Zihad asks.  _

_ “It’s illegal.” Dinesh tells him.  _

_ “That’s why we shouldn’t tell anyone.” Zihad says. “Besides, it’s not gay if we don’t do it in the ass.”  _

_ Dinesh’s eyes widen and he pulls back. “What?” He asks, ears burning.  _

_ “Just think of this like guys helping each other out, yeah?” Zihad asks.  _

_ Dinesh frowns at him. “Helping each other?” _

_ Zihad nods, cupping Dinesh’s face again. “I’ll explain later. Let me kiss you again.” He says.  _

_ He only waits a second before leaning in, wrapping Dinesh up in another impassioned press of lips. Dinesh feels a wary uncertainty inside himself, but he hesitantly wraps his arms around Zihad’s shoulders and lets the kiss take over him again.  _

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

Gilfoyle finds him at the bar that evening. 

“How many have you had?” Gilfoyle asks, nodding at the shot in front of him. 

“None.” Dinesh admits. “This is my first one.” He’s been holding it for twenty minutes, mind turning over old memories as he debated if he actually wanted to get drunk or not. 

With Gilfoyle next to him and a shot in front of him, it feels like an unfortunate callback to the Code Gay incident and he struggles not to down the alcohol at the reminder. 

“I’m sorry.” Gilfoyle says quietly. 

Dinesh frowns. Somehow he hadn’t expected the apology and he’s not sure he trusts that it’s genuine. “Because I’m quitting?” He asks. 

“Because you think…” Gilfoyle sighs, taking a second and correcting his phrasing. “Because I bullied you.” He says, reaching over and stealing Dinesh’s shot. He downs it and puts the glass back on the counter. “I hate bullies.”

‘ _ Says the guy who just stole my shot,’  _ Dinesh thinks wryly. 

The bartender appears with another glass, leaving the bottle with them. Dinesh nods gratefully, even though he doesn’t actually intend to get drunk. He’d just end up feeling maudlin, and he’s not keen on spilling his guts, especially not to Gilfoyle. 

“I’m sorry I bullied you.” Gilfoyle says. “And gave you so much crap about your love life.”

Dinesh looks at him curiously. “Why did you bug me so much about it?” He asks. 

“Because it bothered you.” Gilfoyle shrugs. “Fuck, I really am a bully.” He pours himself another shot. 

Dinesh doesn’t disagree with him. 

“I guess,” Gilfoyle says, as he puts his glass down again. “I didn’t like not knowing that you’d been in love before.”

“There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about me.” Dinesh points out. 

“I know.” Gilfoyle says. “I’ve never been in love.” He intones after a second. “Not like that - requited. I always figured we were in the same boat there.”

“I’m hot shit in Pakistan.” Dinesh says, more defensive than bragging. 

“I still don’t believe that.”

“Fine. I used to be hot shit in Pakistan.” Dinesh says. “Good family, good education, and - okay, yeah, I’m not a fucking movie star, but I’m still cute, okay?”

Gilfoyle shakes his head and Dinesh rolls his eyes. 

“You know you’d be ugly there, right?” He says. 

Gilfoyle actually tilts his head like he’s never thought about that. 

“Yeah, it goes both ways, asshole.” Dinesh snaps irritably. 

“You’re not ugly.” Gilfoyle says. 

“Yeah, I know.” Dinesh says. “I don’t know why you guys are always acting like you’re so hot and I’m not. I’m handsome as fuck and you can all go sit on rakes.” 

Gilfoyle snorts. 

Dinesh sighs and stares at the grains in the countertop. “I’m not gonna quit.” He decides. “But you guys gotta figure out where to draw the fucking line.” 

“Okay.” Gilfoyle says. “You gonna drink any of this?”

“No.” Dinesh says. 

Gilfoyle pours himself another glass. He doesn’t down it this time though. “Would you tell me about her, if I asked?”

“There really isn’t anything to tell.” Dinesh says. He leaves it at that and Gilfoyle doesn’t push. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ June 1996 _

_ “Do you do this with a lot of boys?” Dinesh asks, sitting with his legs up near his chest, feeling the cum drying in his pants. It had been quick, through the jeans, but he still feels like jelly, his whole world tilting about unnervingly while Zihad smokes a cigarette next to him.  _

_ “No.” Zihad says. “A friend of mine for a while. But he, uh, didn’t like this.” He says, gesturing at the stubble on his face.  _

_ Dinesh nods uncertainly, picking at his pants as he feels the weird, tender throbbing echo in his dick. Zihad’s keeping his distance, now they’re done, and it’s a sharp contrast to the feeling of him crowding Dinesh back into the wall and palming him through his trousers.  _

_ He’d rocked Dinesh’s entire world apart. Had made him feel a sensation he’d never felt getting off by himself. And now Dinesh feels cold, like he’d only been good for getting off and not much else.  _

_ Zihad scoots a little closer, and Dinesh looks up warily. “You’re beautiful.” Zihad whispers, his breath smoky with nicotine.  _

_ Dinesh’s heart skips as he feels Zihad’s hand graze his cheek.  _

_ “The most beautiful eyes.” Zihad says quietly and Dinesh’s heart pumps as he stares back.  _

_ “Do you like me?” Dinesh whispers.  _

_ Zihad blinks, then he throws his head back and laughs. The noise makes Dinesh feel like he’s soaring, even as his nerves light up in response.  _

_ Zihad leans forward, pressing a peck to Dinesh’s temple. “Yes, Dinesh. But we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” He says gently.  _

_ Dinesh nods his head. He’s not stupid. He knows this would ruin both of them, but he can’t make himself walk away from it.  _

_ He thinks he might like Zihad too.  _

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

When Dinesh’s phone rings around 10, he groans, staring at the caller ID and debating letting it go to voicemail. He knows what call this is. He hates these calls. 

“Mom?” He says, finally answering it as he moves to rise from his desk. 

_ “Have you seen the facebook page?”  _

“Facebook?” He murmurs, plopping in his seat again. 

_ “Your cousin is engaged!”  _ His mother says. 

“Wajeed?” Dinesh asks in a panic, since the guy’s way too young for that. He gets facebook up and sees the notification around the same time his father says “Farooq!” 

Dinesh sighs, staring at the photo. 

“ _ About time!”  _ His mother says.

Dinesh feels curious eyes glancing over at him and figures he might as well switch to Urdu. “ _ He’s only 37.”  _ Dinesh points out as he stares at the invitation in his inbox. 

“ _ He is old. He’ll make stupid babies!”  _ His mother snaps, while his father agrees in the background. “ _ I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that with you. You’ll adopt, right?” _

Dinesh shuts his eyes, holding panic at bay. He hates these conversations. “ _ I’m not getting married, mom.”  _ He points out, massaging his temple. 

“ _ Why not? The supreme court over there said you could get married a year ago. You should hurry up and have a family.”  _ His father pipes up. 

Dinesh fights the urge to throw his phone. He jumps when he feels a comforting hand on his shoulder and he looks up at Jared in confusion. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“Oh, well, you looked tense.” Jared points out. He bends, heedless of privacy as he peers at Dinesh’s screen. He beams. “A wedding!” He says. 

“ _ Who is that?”  _ His father asks.

“ _ Are you seeing someone?”  _ His mother pipes up. 

“No! I’m not-” He glances at Jared and switches back to Urdu. “ _ I’m not dating anyone. When I find the right woman for me, I’ll tell you.” _

His mother scoffs. “ _ Right woman?! You’re gay. Go, be gay.” _

_ “You know we love you, sweet child.”  _ His father says. “ _ We just want you to be happy.”  _

Dinesh hears the resignation in his father’s voice and fights the frustration bubbling inside him. 

“ _ We will come there for the wedding.”  _ His mother says. 

“Okay.” Dinesh replies. “Let me know when.”

“ _ We will, Dinesh.”  _ His father promises before bidding goodbye. 

Dinesh sighs, feeling wrung out and uncomfortable following the exchange. He glances at Jared, who’s hovering near him curiously. “What?” He asks. 

“Are you okay?” Jared asks gently. 

Dinesh is aware that Gilfoyle and Richard are watching him now as well. “Peachy.” He says, turning to his computer. After a second of hesitation, he accepts his cousin’s invitation. “I’m gonna need some time off in a few months. My cousin’s getting married.”

“Wajeed?” Richard asks with wide eyes. 

Dinesh shakes his head. “Farooq.” 

“Oh. Do you need to go somewhere for that?” Richard asks. 

“Just overnight. He lives a few towns over.” Dinesh says. 

There’s a pause and when he looks up, they’re all watching him with wide eyes. 

“What?” He asks. 

“I just thought he lived a lot farther.” Richard says. 

“You never see him.” Gilfoyle intones. 

Dinesh shrugs. “We’re not that close.” He offers. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ March 1998 _

_ “You’re a good boy.” Dinesh’s father whispers into his hair, cradling his awkward 17 year old child as Dinesh bawls his eyes out, fear and sadness gripping him.  _

_ The police station is oppressive and terrifying around them. Dinesh’s mother grips his hand next to him and rubs circles on his back. Their unconditional acceptance is a small comfort, but it’s not enough to keep the shame at bay.  _

_ Dinesh feels his parents tense and he looks up uncertainly at the officer standing in front of them, not able to breathe.  _

_ “The charges were dropped.” The officer tells them. “The other suspect explained that it was all a misunderstanding.” _

_ “So we’re free to go?” Mrs. Chugtai asks, eyes sharp and brimming with anger.  _

_ “Yes. But we think it would be best to keep the young men separated. We wouldn’t want another misunderstanding.” The officer says, a sympathetic glint in his gaze.  _

_ Dinesh sees Zihad’s father in the background, looking fierce as he drags Zihad from the interrogation chambers, gripping his arm roughly. Dinesh feels a squeeze in his heart as he stares at the young man. Zihad’s eyes meet his and Dinesh seeks understanding from across the police station.  _

_ ‘I love you.’ Zihad mouths when his father’s distracted and Dinesh feels terrified cries grip at his chest.  _

_ “Child. Oh, sweet child.” Dinesh’s father says as he gently gets him up from the bench.  _

_ “No.” Dinesh whispers as he feels himself guided out of the station.  _

_ It’s an ending. It’s the worst ending in the world, and Dinesh feels his heart break.  _

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

Dinesh wakes up in a cold sweat, his chest aching and his stomach turning over with nausea. It’s not an unusual dream, and after nearly two decades, he manages to get through it without crying. But it still leaves him feeling uncomfortably wrecked. 

Dinesh crawls out of bed. It’s 3 in the morning. He shuffles out of his room, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he drinks it, he spies the light in the living room and decides to check in. He feels better when he sees Gilfoyle sitting in there, already on the couch with a game controller. 

This happens more frequently than they’d admit in the day time. Gilfoyle’s insomnia means he’s awake more often than not, and when Dinesh can’t sleep, he stumbles across Gilfoyle out and about. 

“Hey man.” Gilfoyle says. 

Dinesh walks in, slipping onto the couch next to Gilfoyle and scooping up the other controller. He tucks his bare feet up under him while Gilfoyle gets Mario Kart going. 

They have the same conversation they always have. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Gilfoyle says. 

“No.” Dinesh says. 

“Me neither.”

Dinesh nods as he selects his character. Gilfoyle breaks the mold this time though. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Gilfoyle asks. 

Dinesh glances over curiously. “What?” He asks. 

“You’ve been pretty down lately.” Gilfoyle points out. 

Dinesh sighs as the race starts. He loses himself in beating Gilfoyle’s ass for a few minutes. The match ends and Dinesh glances at Gilfoyle. “Why do you care?” He asks. 

“We’re friends.” Gilfoyle shrugs. 

Dinesh swallows thickly and looks away. He stares at the colorful characters on the screen as he feels his chest twinge uncomfortably. “Another match.” He decides. 

They play. Gilfoyle wins this time. Dinesh stares at the celebratory screen. 

“His name was…” Dinesh trails off. “It doesn’t matter.” He decides. “He was a he.”

“Who was?” Gilfoyle asks. 

“My first - well, my only, really…” Dinesh says clumsily. He takes a breath to steady himself as he rubs at the spot on his chest.  “The person I loved was a guy.” 

When he glances over, Gilfoyle’s watching him with an open mouth and surprised eyes. Dinesh can’t tell if Gilfoyle’s judging him or not, but he’s a little thrown to discover that he doesn’t actually care. Not enough to flee to his room anyway. All that’s waiting for him there are nightmares and bad memories. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Dinesh says, gesturing toward the screen. “Rematch.” 

“Okay.” Gilfoyle says. He’s quiet, processing the revelation as they play again. 

Gradually, the tension lifts, though neither can bring themselves to actually go to bed and they’re largely silent as the sun starts to rise. 

“Forget I said anything.” Dinesh orders quietly when they hear Jared’s car pull up in the driveway while Richard shuffles out of his room, indicating the start of the workday. 

“There’s nothing wrong with what you said.” Gilfoyle tells him. “I’m not gonna forget it. But I won’t bring it up.”

Dinesh feels just a little less like he’s suffocating as he looks at Gilfoyle. “Thanks.” He murmurs. 

Gilfoyle gives a brief nod before standing up and turning off the x-box. Dinesh blames sleep deprivation for the fact that, for the briefest of seconds, he’s glad he’s got Gilfoyle. 

**~~~*~~~*~~~**

_ June 1998 _

_ Dinesh sits in the passenger side of the car, staring with wide eyes at Zihad, who’s driven them to some shady looking part of the city.  _

_ They shouldn’t even be together, but Zihad showed up outside of his bedroom window and helped sneak him out, and now they’re having one last hurrah before Zihad’s dad sends him off to Germany.  _

_ “What are we doing?” Dinesh asks, glancing at the street outside.  _

_ “I want you to remember me.” Zihad tells him, cupping his cheek and turning his head back so they can look at each other.  _

_ “I wasn’t planning on forgetting you.” Dinesh says. Zihad’s lips quirk, but they’re both too misty-eyed and sad to really make levity work right now.  _

_ “This isn’t how I wanted things to go,  _ _ albelaa _ _ (Charming one.)” Zihad tells him.  _

_ “Me neither.” Dinesh says.  _

_ Zihad leans forward and Dinesh sucks in a breath, glancing at the window.  _

_ “No one here will care.” Zihad tells him, before leaning in all the way. Dinesh’s eyes snap shut as he feels lips on his. It’s been months, and they put their all into it, telling each other everything they haven’t been able to say.  _

_ It hurts so badly and Dinesh feels wetness slip down his cheeks. Zihad pulls back, and even though his cheeks are wet as well, he rubs Dinesh’s tears away and shushes him.  _

_ “It’s okay, albelaa.” Zihad says. “We’ll be okay.” _

_ “How?” Dinesh asks. “This fucking sucks.” _

_ Zihad smiles sadly and traces his mouth. “I know. But we’ll always remember each other.” Zihad says. “You’ll always be here.” He grabs Dinesh’s hand and presses it against his chest. “And I here.” He says, touching Dinesh in return, right over his heart.  _

_ When they enter the tattoo parlour, Dinesh is careful to make sure that he gets his right where Zihad touched him. It hurts, but in a strange way, it makes the ache in his chest a little less painful.  _


End file.
